


Purely Ornamental

by Moadlc



Series: Moadlc Writes Supernatural [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Ornaments AU, Curses, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, That isn't a thing but it is now, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:26:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moadlc/pseuds/Moadlc
Summary: Christmas only comes around once a year. At least, that is what the Powers That Be would have you think. For Dean, Christmas is the only reason he is alive. He is a middling ornament stuck decorating near the middle of the tree. Life could be worse for Dean. Yet, he has always longed to be something more. In Dean’s case, ‘something more’ took the form of Castiel, the angel at the top of the Christmas tree. They weren’t destined to meet, but that changes in one night. The world is turned upside down, and it's up to Dean and Cas to turn it right side up before Christmas ends, or suffer the consequences.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Moadlc Writes Supernatural [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1516916
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13
Collections: Dean/Cas Reverse Bang 2021





	Purely Ornamental

**Author's Note:**

> EEEEK!! It is finally here! I am super excited to share my fic for the Dean Cas Reverse Bang 2021! 
> 
> The original art and concept is all thanks to the amazing 7hunnyybunnyy7! Check them out on social media [here](https://7hunnyybunnyy7.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I am once again thanking [Destiel-more-like-bestiel](https://destiel-more-like-bestiel.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr for being my awesome and super patient beta!
> 
> This might be the weirdest fic I have ever written, but like in a good way?? Anyway, destiel is canon. Enjoy my theybies <3

[ ](https://ibb.co/Msh2k5M)

CHRISTMAS DAY, 12:01AM

Life as an ornament had never been easy for Dean. He knew he was privileged. He had a relatively high spot on the tree which meant that- for one night a year- he got to come alive with one of the best views in the house. His spot on the tree had many branches that were perfect for sitting in without slipping to the floor. Thanks to a particularly strong and long branch, he also had a prime view of the angel at the top of the tree. The same angel who sat at the place of honor which so many other ornaments wished they could even glimpse at. Dean had a full view of him every single year. It was one of the few perks of being a middle ornament. 

[](https://ibb.co/pzgxv03)

Yet still, something had always felt _off_ for Dean. His job as an ornament was simple. All he had to do was look pretty and keep order in his portion of the tree until the clock struck 12 again and Christmas was over. The ornaments were free to roam around the tree and visit each other, as long as the humans were not around and they returned to their respective spots in time. The younger ornaments would run and play while the older ornaments, like Dean, made sure that nothing fell too far out of place. If he did his part to keep the tree alive and ordered just as he had found it when he woke, then all the ornaments would live to see another Christmas. 

But that was precisely the problem. Every year, the ornaments all did as they had been told at some point in time by some unknown entity, just so they could come alive again next year. Why would someone create them to only live for 24 hours a year? From his spot, Dean could see the house they inhabited. He could see where the decorations changed year after year. He could see the mess of papers and trash that never seemed to be in the same place when he woke. They had even caught glimpses of the “human” that inhabited the tree’s house. The human was rarely around on Christmas Day, which meant that the ornaments could roam freely across the tree for the majority of the day. 

Most ornaments ignored the human entirely, but he fascinated Dean. It was living proof that existence was more than just one single day of the year. There was more to life than just a singular tree they decorated. Dean longed to see that world. To find a purpose, his reason for being. Hell, maybe he could even find their creator one day. Dean had a couple things he would like to ask them… and maybe tell them. 

Dean had woken up again a few minutes ago and he already could hear the rest of the tree bustling with activity. His brother, Sam, had come to say hi before leaving to hang out with Eileen, another middle ornament that he could tell his brother was quite fond of. It was nice, to see Sam live out some semblance of happiness, even if it was only for a brief period of time each year. Dean himself was getting ready to head out on his yearly rounds. He would probably visit his mother, Ellen, Jo and Bobby. If he had some time to spare, he might go find his dad over with the lower ornaments. It had been a couple years since he saw him. He knew he should go, yet he couldn’t bring himself to move. He always had the same routine, every single year. Dean was bored. 

So he decided to do something he had never dared to do before. He decided to take some time for himself. He walked out towards the longest branch near his spot on the tree and sat with his legs dangling over the edge. He took a deep breath and reminisced on the brief life he had led. He looked out towards the rest of the living room and took in the small changes he could see had been made over the past year. A new recliner, a couple empty beer bottles on a table and a wastebasket full of crumpled pages which was fuller than usual. There had to be more to this life. 

Just as he got ready to leave and start his usual round of visits, something shiny at the edge of his vision caught his eye. It moved quickly past him and hurtled downwards until it hit the floor with a solid thud. He leaned over the edge to try and find what had fallen. It took Dean a moment to realize what he was seeing. Laying there on the ground was their angel from the top of the tree. Castiel. 

\--------------------------------------------------

CHRISTMAS EVE, 6:46 PM

Chuck often wondered what his life would have turned out like if he had never decided to dabble in the literary arts. To the false prophet, his life ended the day he wrote “Supernatural” on his empty Word document. He had created everything, yet no creation had ever cursed him more than writing the Winchesters into existence. 

Even now, as he was being worshipped at the altar of his literary representation of the Winchester's lives, everything around him felt hollow. Chuck only ever craved one thing: control. That had disappeared the day that Castiel, angel of the lord, waltzed into his living room and uttered the words “We are making it up as we go.” That was **not** how Chuck had designed the story to go. Those were not the actions of an angel under his control. An angel with its own mission could prove to be his downfall one day if he wasn’t careful. Chuck knew this. This world had gone rogue and nearly slipped past his fingertips. He was no longer its sole writer. 

Perhaps that is the reason that he now sits on his couch, watching his favorite show obsessively and drinking bottle after bottle of nameless liquor. Chuck is just trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. What had been different about this Castiel, this Dean, and this Sam. They opposed the thousands of worlds he had created before them and instilled fear in the most precious part of himself: his mind. 

Maybe that is why he accepts Becky’s ridiculous Christmas tree gift. She had shown up on his doorstep while he was in the middle of a particularly horrid session of “wallowing in self-pity” and she had refused to leave until Chuck had let her come inside. He had begrudgingly watched her set the tree up in his living room, taking each figurine out of their box with utmost care. As she started to put the decorations together, he finally realized what the central theme of the tree was. It was full of Supernatural-themed figurines. The figurines were extremely detailed which meant that Becky had obviously made them all herself. She had prepared a figurine for everyone, even the damn car. And who did she put as the angel at the top of the tree? None other than Castiel, the biggest pain in Chuck’s ass. 

Castiel, Angel of Thursday, who only a couple days earlier had waltzed into his life and challenged everything that Chuck had ever known. This rebel angel, the one that came with a crack in his chassis, unwittingly stared straight into the eyes of his creator and said: “Well, we are making it up as we go.” That was the day that Chuck had lost for the first time in his very long life, and now he had a Christmas tree with his insubordinate creation smiling benevolently at him from the place of honor. 

Right next to Castiel, she had placed the figurine that looked suspiciously like Dean dressed in some festive clothing. “Why did you put Dean there?” Chuck asked, the first words he had uttered to Becky since the tree had been set up. She smiled as she looked at the tree and shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know, it just seems like that is where he belongs, don’t you think?” No, he did not think that at all. Dean was supposed to be his perfect, all-American, red-blooded male protagonist. No one was ever supposed to share a spot by his side. Chuck soured at the thought that his own creations plotted against him, even if it was subconsciously. 

After Becky left, Chuck took the Dean figurine and placed him further down the tree. The real Cas and Dean of this world had become virtually inseparable. Still, that didn’t mean that every version of them had to be. In fact, maybe this world was slowly slipping away from his grasp, but Chuck still had the power to fuck with these small figurines. Perhaps that is why, after Becky left him to his own devices with the tree, Chuck decided to enact his revenge. Before he went to bed that Christmas Eve, he whispered a single incantation towards the tree. 

Excitare et gaudere

Reperio in te, electionem 

vivamus libero enim die, vel tenetur pro an aeternum

Invenire se ante epulari die fines et sigilli vestri vinculum in serenitatem

_Awaken and rejoice_

_Find within yourself a choice_

_to live free for a day or bound for an eternity_

_Find each other before the merry day ends and seal your bond in serenity_

And now, all he would have to do is sit back and watch as they suffered. Perhaps seeing if this Dean and Cas found a way back to each other could serve as an experiment for him. Maybe if he saw it happen up close, he could try to understand where he had gone wrong in the real world. If anything, it would be entertaining to see them struggle uselessly against a pointless existence. One of the other Dean Winchester’s of his parallel worlds had once told him that existence was a prison, but death was much worse. Dean hadn’t known how right he had been at the time. Existence could indeed be a prison, and death a tragic fate, but Chuck could make sure they never forgot that every prison has its solitary. 

\------------------------------------------

CHRISTMAS DAY, 12:13 AM

The day had only just begun and it was shaping up to be a very huge disaster for Castiel. As the angel at the top of the tree, he had an immense responsibility to the rest of the ornaments. He had a place of honor which allowed him to hold some power over the rest of the ornaments and the goings on of the tree. He was also the key to assuring that they all came alive again every Christmas Day. 

Many ornaments believed that they each needed to return to their specific spot before Christmas ended so that their spell continued to work. But that was just a folktale. An old legend that had telephoned its way down the tree until it was so twisted that it involved everyone’s complete obedience. The truth was that the only person that truly needed to be at his place was Castiel. For years, he had done his duty. He had protected their tree and looked after the ornaments as they cheered or fought. He had not minded that he couldn’t leave his spot. Sure, his view and power were nice, but that wasn’t the reason he didn’t mind staying. His reason was much more selfish. From his perch at the top of the tree, Castiel could see Dean, one of the middle ornaments, who he had fallen for the first time he laid eyes on him.

Dean was beautiful. Every year, the moment that Castiel opened his eyes, he would search out Dean. His heart would thump violently against his chest as he watched Dean wake and greet his brother. He always smiled when he saw him, a bright and shining sight which was getting more alluring every year. Thanks to his angelic powers, Cas could observe Dean in much detail. He could see his light blondish hair shine against the christmas lights and his perfectly fitted clothes wrap around him gracefully as he moved. Castiel was the angel, but Dean was truly holy to him. 

The one thing, in all of his time as the angel of the tree, the only thing he ever wished for was to be able to hear Dean’s voice. It was the one thing he could not appreciate from his perch. He dreamed about it, tried to guess what Dean would sound like as he said his name. What he would sound like as he laughed. There had been one year, where he considered asking his angel friend Hannah to bring Dean to him so that they could meet. Yet, he stopped himself. Castiel might think Dean the worthiest being in the universe, but the hierarchy of their tree was simple. Middle ornaments could not mingle with upper ornaments nor lower ones. Everybody has their place in the tree and nothing can go against that. Not even the angel at the top. 

Still, Castiel was a dreamer. He longed for something different, something more. He longed to spend time with Dean. To truly know him, not just the Dean he had come to observe from afar. Castiel waited for the upper ornaments to leave him alone to perform their duties, as he usually did, before moving to the far end of his perch. This was his routine every year. Take care of the ornament’s troubles, look after the tree’s health, give some orders and then just sit and wait until he could catch another glimpse of Dean again. Maybe that is why, when he saw Dean hesitate by his branch instead of leaving to visit family, Castiel made the first mistake of his whole existence. He leaned too close to the edge. 

Castiel fell.

CHRISTMAS DAY, 12:20AM

Dean stared dumbfounded at the sight before him for a few precious minutes before springing to action. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but he did know one thing: Castiel was in trouble. That was enough to spur him into action. He rushed down the tree haphazardly towards the fallen angel and tried hopelessly to stay out of sight from the other ornaments. He wasn’t quite sure why he didn’t ask for help. Surely, Castiel would need it. But Dean also assumed that whatever had just happened could send their entire world order toppling over. The angel at the top was never supposed to _leave_ the top of the tree. Seeing something that suggested otherwise might give some of the wilder, unruly ornaments- “ _like Crowley”_ Dean thought bitterly- some nasty ideas. 

When Dean reached the very bottom of the tree he noticed that the branches surrounding him were empty. He hesitated as he stood on the last branch. He had never left their tree before. The distance between the branch and the floor was barely more than his height, yet it daunted him like a cliff to the abyss. In the distance, he could see Castiel’s rumpled form on the ground who seemed to be laying eerily still. A chill of fear ran down Dean’s spine and without a second thought he jumped down towards the floor and made his way to the fallen angel. 

He stood over Castiel’s rumpled form, taking in the details of the angel’s features up close for the very first time. He had a strong, stubbled jaw and brunette hair that Dean’s fingers itched to run through. His tan coat had fanned out around him, giving him the illusion of wings. He was beautiful. As if sensing his presence, Castiel woke up and focused two brilliantly blue eyes on Dean’s face. 

“Uh...you alright?” Dean said lamely, trying to fill the silence between them. 

Castiel blinked, he seemed shocked for some reason that Dean couldn’t quite place. He cleared his throat, “Yes,” He jumped up and started dusting off his coat, his hands shaking “-I am alright… I think. Where are we?” he asked, looking up towards the tree. 

“We’re pretty much under the tree. You, uh, fell?” Dean answered hesitantly, terrified that he might anger Castiel. 

“I-, I did” Castiel confirmed, looking at his shoes with an unreadable expression. He didn’t seem to want to elaborate on what had gone wrong and Dean certainly wasn’t going to push him. Dean didn’t know what he should say, so he kept quiet and waited for the angel to give him instructions. Or whatever it was that Castiel usually did. 

The angel met Dean’s gaze once more, seemingly transfixed by what he found there. His gaze seemed puzzled, yet intrigued. He also had a total disregard of the limits of Dean’s personal space. Dean shifted from one leg to another under the angel’s intense gaze. 

“You have freckles” Castiel whispered like it was some sort of divine revelation. 

Dean’s brow furrowed before he replied slowly “Uh, yeah, is that a problem?.”

Castiel stared at him for a few moments longer before looking away with a mumbled “No.” He looked up towards the tree, its height imposing from their current vantage point. “I need to get back.” 

Dean followed Cas’s gaze as he nodded. “Yeah, I figured as much. Should be easy enough for you.”

Cas looked at Dean once more with that furrowed expression and squinted gaze that could only be categorized as ‘fucking cute’. “What do you mean?” Castiel asked incredulously. 

“Well,” Dean began, “you have _wings_. You can just fly right back up. I’ll probably be stuck with the long way up.” 

“My wings aren’t...functional?” Castiel responded slowly. He was dumbfounded at why Dean would assume such a thing. The ornament’s eyes went wide in response. 

“The hell kind of angel are you? Angels have wings so they can fly, Cas. Everyone knows that?” Dean finished, his condescending tone was starting to get on Castiel’s nerves. He was so confused that the shortened version of his name went right over Castiel’s head. 

“I don’t even know where to begin” the angel finally settled on before turning to walk towards the tree stump. Dean scrambled to follow the angel, trying to keep up with his brutal pace.

“Yo, buddy. Sorry, I didn’t realize that it was a touchy subject. No need to get your feathers in a twist.” The moment the words came out of Dean’s mouth, he regretted them. Castiel’s stony gaze only made him regret it further and murmur a soft ‘sorry’ once more. 

Slowly but surely, they made their way back towards the base of the tree. They wordlessly agreed that getting back up through the back of the tree was their best bet if they wanted to avoid being seen. This also meant that they would need to stay close to the wall that was adjacent to the tree itself. At the stump, Dean gave Castiel a boost up to the nearest branch and then the angel leaned down and returned the favor. They walked silently for a while, each of the ornaments lost in their thoughts. Neither of them brave enough to address the subject at hand - why Castiel had fallen in the first place. They simply walked in tandem as best as the tree allowed. 

Once they reached the wall, Dean decided to throw caution to the wind and asked the question that had been running through his mind, “So, are we going to talk about how you ended up like a floor pancake?” 

Castiel seemed startled by the sudden interruption of their silence and he hesitated. Looking around, he couldn’t see any other ornaments hanging around them. He leaned against the wall and a nearby branch before sighing in defeat. He knew that he had to satitatie Dean’s curiosity if he wanted his help getting back. _I could lie_ , Castiel thought, but something within him recoiled at the idea of lying to Dean. With one last look to ensure that they were as alone as they could get, Castiel spoke.

“I fell from my post because I became...distracted.” Not the whole truth, but not a lie either. It was the best he could do right now. 

“You got...distracted. Alright, what was so distracting?” Dean probed. He wasn’t sure what answer he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the words that came out of Castiel’s mouth. 

“...You. I was staring at you.” A sudden silence came over them, Dean stunned at the angel’s blunt admission. His cheeks began to warm and he couldn’t meet Castiel’s gaze. 

“I wasn’t going to mention it,” Castiel continued lamely, his intense gaze resting on the hunter’s blushing face. The freckles were even more obvious under his quickly reddening cheeks. Cas tried fruitlessly to remedy what was quickly becoming an awkward situation. Dean simply cleared his throat and nodded before quickly continuing on their path up the tree. 

CHRISTMAS DAY, 1:30 AM

Both Dean and Castiel quickly learned that getting back up the tree was ten times harder than coming down. It was also taking five times longer. With each branch they climbed they knew, logically, that they were closer to the top. Yet, stuck between the endless white wall and the deep green of the tree, both ornaments felt there would be no end to their climbing. 

Dean had stopped blushing after a couple of branches, but the weight of Cas’s admission kept revolving in his head. The angel at the top of the tree had fallen from said top because he was looking at _Dean_. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t all that great to look at up close, even less from all the way at the top. Did Cas have some strange hyper vision powers that he didn’t know about? 

Dean hazarded a glance in the angel’s direction. They were walking side by side on a particularly long branch. The exertion from climbing had gotten to Cas. His cheeks were slightly flushed and his hair was starting to stick a little to his forehead. He had taken off his trenchcoat two branches ago and tied it around his waist. He was rolling up his sleeves as they walked and Dean’s mouth suddenly went dry at the sight of Cas’s strong forearms. 

“I know what you are doing” Cas spoke in a smooth, teasing voice that went straight to Dean’s groin. _Focus, dummy, focus_.

“Oh yeah? What’s that” Dean replied, trying to keep his voice from betraying him. 

“You are overthinking things. I can practically hear the gears grinding in your head” Cas smirked as he reached for the next branch and pulled himself up.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Well, it ain’t every day that an angel admits they were checking you out, buddy.” He pulled himself up next to Cas and was pleased to find the angel blushing. 

“I wasn’t checking you out” Cas murmured petulantly, “I was merely admiring your existence?” He finished in a questioning tone. 

Dean doubled over laughing at the angel’s awkward retort, much to Cas’s chagrin. He walked towards the angel and wrapped his arm around his shoulders as he breathed in “Oh buddy,” Dean said between laugh-filled breaths “we need to work on your flirting.” 

Cas stared at Dean’s smiling face, his confusion at the outburst began to slowly be replaced by a new, unfamiliar warmth blooming in the center of his chest. He liked making Dean laugh. 

“I wasn’t aware that was considered a flirtation,” Cas finally said after Dean had settled down. 

“Well, I guess you angels aren’t as all-knowing as you thought” Dean teased, his brow raised in Cas’s direction.

Cas smiled softly, savoring the feel of Dean’s arm around his shoulders as they walked down the new branch. “I am inclined to believe that being an angel is not as glamorous as it may seem.”

“I mean, I’m sure the gig comes with a hell of a view” Dean questioned, looking upwards.

“It does,” Cas agreed before staying silent for a beat. He came to a stop near the trunk of the tree and moved from under Dean’s grasp. He reached for the next branch before adding, “and yet, I was looking down at you.” 

Dean stopped solidly in his tracks, rendered speechless for a brief moment. Cas climbed up and held his hand out to help Dean up as well. He had a soft smile that Dean was quickly getting addicted to. 

“Let me guess,” Cas began, “that was another flirtation?” he teased with a knowing smirk.

Dean snorted before grabbing hold of the angel’s outstretched hand. “Never change, Cas. Never change.”

CHRISTMAS DAY, 2:01 PM

It was well past midday by the time they reached the threshold of the window that was close to the top of the tree. A couple branches extended long enough that they were able to reach the windowsill. This was as far up the tree that Dean was allowed to go as a middle ornament. They had decided to take a break on the windowsill, both of their arms sore from the constant climbing. 

“Well Cas, it looks like we are getting close to the end of our little field trip”, Dean joked, trying to come across as nonchalant, but failing miserably. 

For a moment, Cas looked up at his normal spot on the tree before turning to stare out the window. “It seems that we are” he finally responded, his voice small. 

There is something on Cas’s face, a feeling, that Dean can’t quite place. He walks up and joins the angel on the windowsill. There is a bit of snow covering the soil outside. There are a few families enjoying the light snowfall on their front lawns, the kids playing with their new Christmas toys. The world is peaceful, beyond the confines of their tree. Dean wishes he could take Cas out there someday. Have their own adventure without worrying about a cursed deadline. 

They sit together, closer than they had been nearly all day. The silence between them was companionable, like this had always been their routine. Dean turned to stare at the angel, savoring what he suspected may be his last moments close to his side. Cas looks holy in the daylight, the sun falls delicately over his cheeks and shines in his eyes, making them reflect a brilliant blue. 

“This doesn’t have to be the end”, Cas mutters, still staring firmly ahead. 

Dean’s brow furrows, “What are you talking about Cas?” 

Cas turns to meet Dean’s gaze, a determined expression to his eyes. “You can come with me” a pause, “to the top”, he clarifies. 

Dean’s heart flutters dangerously, his expression disbelieving. “You know I’m not allowed up there, Cas.” 

“I know”, he replies “it's against the rules.” Cas reaches for Dean’s hand and meets his eyes, effectively pinning him down with his intense gaze. “But, what if we broke those rules?” 

“Cas-” Dean begins, but is cut off by the feel of Cas squeezing his hand. 

“I know that I am an angel ornament. I have all the power I could ever want or need. But my station at the top is incredibly lonely, Dean.” The angel’s eyes settle in his lap, apparently unable to meet his friend’s eyes anymore. “The only moments that brought me some semblance of true happiness, were the ones when I caught a glimpse of you down below.”

“Cas, we can’t-” Dean starts, but the words fall flat in the space between them. He knows there are reasons why they shouldn’t, but somehow none of them come to mind.

“Why not? What good is my power, my station, if it doesn’t allow me to choose who to have by my side?” Cas meets Dean’s eyes once more, the brilliant blue shining with unshed tears. 

“We barely know each other” Dean murmurs, his gaze fixed on the impossible angel before him. 

“Does the honeybee doubt its favorite flower, just because it's in a new field?” Cas replies, his voice soft and reverent as he clutches Dean’s hand. 

Dean stares at him a little longer, a smile slowing coming over his features. “You are a funky little angel, you know that?” 

Cas chuckles, “Well, it seems you do know me well enough.”

Dean smiles and stands on the windowsill. He reaches out his hand to help Cas up, “Then, what are we waiting for?” he asks, illuminated by the afternoon glow filtering in the window. _He looks beautiful_ , Cas thinks.

Cas grabs hold of his friend’s hand, a seemingly permanent smile decorating his face. They walk up the remaining branches, their hands clasped for as long as they possibly can. It's only a couple branches before they make it to Cas’s usual spot. The angel was right, he could see everything from up here. Smiling, Cas leads Dean to his favorite spot, the one he could see Dean’s perch from. They are in plain view of the other ornaments now and there is no hiding where they had come from nor Dean’s presence exactly where he shouldn’t be.

At a distance, Dean can see Sam with Eileen, Ellen, and Bobby sitting near his favorite perch. They are looking up at him, their brows furrowed and their arms flailing as they try to get his attention. He waves back at them using the hand that Castiel has officially taken as hostage on his own. Below them, he can hear the rustling of the other angel ornaments frantically trying to make their way up to them. Dean knows that there will be hell to pay for their transgression and that they were running out of time before the Human returned. 

“I could get used to this view,” Dean says, turning his attention back to the angel. 

Cas smiles and reaches to cup Dean’s cheek in his hand. “So could I.”

The rustling of the lower branches intensifies, the other ornaments are gaining on them. Cries of confusion and outrage are starting to be heard from below. “They aren’t going to be happy about this once they reach us, Cas.” 

“I will reason with them” Cas assures. 

“And if you can’t?” Dean asks, leaning closer into the angel’s space. The hand on his cheek is warm and grounding. He craves more of it. 

Cas hesitates, as if carefully considering his answer. “Then we could always just fall together” he states, that determined look on his face again. There was something magnetic about his certainty, the warmth and comfort of his gaze. 

“Sounds like a plan to me” Dean adds with a smile, and braves the distance he never thought he would cross. 

He kisses Castiel, the angel at the top of the tree. 

There are sparks, lights, fireworks and every other cheesy thing that Dean could ever associate with a kiss like this. But most importantly, there is Cas. They were new to this, new to the world and new to this life. Yet, they felt ancient with each other. They had known this kiss for eons and its name would linger on their tongues until the end of time itself.

Against the odds, against God’s will, they had found a way towards each other again. That kiss, evidence of their profound bond made metaphysical, was the final piece in the puzzle. Unbeknownst to them, Chuck had issued them a challenge which they had braved and overcome; just as they had done before in the real world. With one kiss, they undid Chuck’s curse and returned all the ornaments back to their original, plaster-filled, unanimated selves. 

Later that Christmas day, Chuck would walk into his living room once more, and find the Dean and Cas ornaments sitting proudly upon Castiel’s perch wrapped in each other's arms. As it was meant to be. 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

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